


Third Time's the Charm

by Sh4d0wc4t



Category: Good Omens (TV), Scooby Doo - All Media Types, Scooby Doo Where Are You! (Cartoon), Scooby-Doo! and the Witch's Ghost (1999)
Genre: Antichrist, Comedy, Crossover, Gen, Sassy Crowley (Good Omens), friends - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-31
Updated: 2021-01-31
Packaged: 2021-03-14 22:47:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,417
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28678383
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sh4d0wc4t/pseuds/Sh4d0wc4t
Summary: Shaggy Rodgers is an Antichrist?
Comments: 1
Kudos: 5





	Third Time's the Charm

Adam Young was excited to be in London with his father for the weekend. Mr. Young had decided 13 was the best age to experience Shakespeare in its proper form, the theatre. He'd, somewhat reluctantly, agreed to drop his son off at the bookstore their odd American neighbor recommended to him. A.Z. Fell and Co in Soho, est 1793, was close enough to their hotel that Mr. Young had eventually agreed to an unsupervised visit, for two hours only, and Adam would be returned to the hotel.

Adam was less excited about watching _Romeo and Juliet_ than he was for visiting the bookshop Anathema, their odd American neighbor, told him about. When Adam had returned the world to normal he'd added the _Just William_ series by Richmal Crompton to the otherwise old and rare collection. She'd giggled when mentioning the books, since they were not at all like anything else in the shop.

Inside the bookstore, two very old friends and the teen were conversing in the back room. Aziraphale, owner, angel, and lover of good food, was moving books around to make room for a new shipment of old books scheduled to arrive tomorrow. Crowley, fallen angel, plant ~~owner~~ terrorizer, and occasional snake, was drinking Aziraphale's 1875 Chateau Lafite while precariously balancing his chair beside a circular table set in the middle of the back room. Adam was seated across from him with his third cup of freshly-made hot cocoa between his hands. Aziraphale had just dusted cinnamon atop the extra-large mug piled high with marshmallows.

"No one's been giving you trouble, right?" Adam asked.

The Apocalypse was some time ago, but given their 'sides' were not happy with the pair, it was an oft-asked question from those 'in-the-know'.

Aziraphale patted his shoulder as he moved past to clear the shelf behind him. "We are quite alright, I assure you."

"Good." Adam drank some cocoa and smiled at the warmth between his hands.

"Relax, kid." Crowley looked over his sunglasses at the young Antichrist, "It's not like they'll send a third antichrist to finish things." He waved the almost empty wine glass in the air, somehow managing to indicate both up and down in the same vague gesture. The demon glanced at the glass and frowned a little. Miracling over another bottle of wine, he refilled the glass.

Aziraphalefroze, staring at his demon counterpart, eyes wide in shock and his mouth in a tiny hurt frown.

"Wait, what do you mean 'third antichrist'?" Adam leanedover his cocoa. "You mean there was someone before me?"

"Indeed," The angel carefully put down the large book he had just removed from the shelf behind Adam. "There is only one Antichrist."

"Well," Crowley said slowly, leaning back even further with his chair and sipping from his glass.

"Crowley!" The angel stomped his foot.

"Fine!" Crowley brought his chair back down with a loud thud, the wine glass returned to the table more gently. Aziraphale flinched. Adam's eyes widened and he bounced in his seat, pushing his cocoa away quickly, spilling a few drops.

"What's this other antichrist? Who are they? When? How?"

"Alright, alright!" Crowley waved a limp hand at the boy, picked up his wine glass with the other, and downed the glass.

"Right, so some of the folks downstairs thought we could get ahead of the angels if they could get an antichrist on earth without any sort of heavenly intervention or knowledge. Never shared how, but they managed some sort of demon influenced pregnancy of some lady in America in the 60s."

"Over half a century ago!" Aziraphale exclaimed.

"Eh, around then. I wasn't keeping track." Crowley paused for a moment considering. 

"No, of course you weren't." Aziraphale miracled himself a cup of cocoa, sans marshmallows, and sat down at the table between Adam and Crowley.

"It was shortly before the plants." Crowley poured himself more wine before continuing. "The demons didn't have bodies, so they just hung around the baby after he was born and kept watch. 'Course it's a kid so the bugger could see them for a while."

"Why didn't they have bodies?"

"Head office didn't sign off on it, did they? No bodies for them." Crowley shrugged, almost spilling his wine. 

Aziraphale sighed heavily and drank deeply from his cocoa as if enough chocolate would make everything better. It usually did.

Adam finally leaned back and pulled his mug forward, carefully this time. "So what happened?"

"Kid was anxious, jumping at everything. Parents didn't know what was going on so they took the kid to a doctor. From what I heard, the doc said it was nerves and put the kid on the good drugs. Ended up with a dog too."

"A hellhound?" Aziraphale whispered. "They sent him a hellhound?"

Crowley thought about it for a moment. "They might have. There were rumors of a missing hellhound for a while and that dog of his certainly wasn't normal."

Adam shook his head, "That can't be it! Couldn't he do what I did?"

"But see he's not The Antichrist." Crowley grinned toothily. "The drugs meant he couldn't see the demons anymore either. So weird stuff would happen and he'd just deal with it."

"Weird stuff?" Aziraphale asked hesitantly. "What kind of weird stuff?"

"Lots of mysteries, normal folk in masks trying to get away with things." Crowley shrugged. "Those demons said he joined a mystery solving gang that traveled around America in a van, solving mysteries that were almost always normal, greedy folk trying to scare people off for whatever reason."

"Really?" Aziraphale gasped. "Though that doesn't seem very strange."

"Angel, when I said 'lots', I mean loads. I mean everywhere him and his friends went, there's someone else in a mask scaring the locals." Crowley drank deeply. "And it wasn't us causing trouble."

Adam tapped his fingers on the table. "Almost always normal?"

"Well, they'd sometimes stumble on a real witch or two; I think the kid got turned into a werewolf for a bit. And somebody mentioned something about zombies, but I stopped listening by then."

"Zombies?" Aziraphale sounded indignant. "Why I never-"

"Dog would save me from zombies." Adam asked. "Couldn't his dog scare them off?"

"Definitely not." Crowley finished off his glass of wine. "Kid named him something ridiculous, like Scoopy or something. Not much of a protection hound."

"Huh." Adam drank his lukewarm cocoa, a marshmallow mustache hovering over his lips before he licked it away. "He sounds cool. What's his name?"

"Norville. Blegh." Crowley's mouth opened wide, tongue extending out past his chin. He flicked the end as the middle undulated before it retreated back into his mouth. "Went by Shaggy."

"Do you think he's still alive?"

"Probably." The demon shrugged. "Not sure really."

"Surely someone is keeping an eye on the poor boy." Aziraphale fretted. "Being even slightly demonic. Oh, dear."

"He doesn't know anything about it, Angel." Crowley waved around his empty glass. "Not that he'd believe anyone who told him. Even though he's encountered the 'supernatural', antichrist is a bit far-fetched. We don't even know what he is! It's not like we've done this before - or since."

Aziraphale sighed, shaking his head. "What kind of supernatural has the poor boy encountered?"

"Ghosts, mostly." Crowley set his glass to one side and leaned in over the table. "From what I heard, kid met the ghost of a witch. Terrible business that."

"What's wrong with a witch?" Adam piped up.

"Don't even ask," Crowley answered. "America is full of strange things. Anyway, a Wiccan girl in a band had to capture her again."

"Wiccan?" Adam turned toward Aziraphale.

"A sort of nature religion." The angel answered quickly.

"Pagan." Crowley added.

Aziraphale nodded emphatically and then finished his cocoa. "More cocoa, Adam?"

"No, Dad's expecting me back at the hotel soon."

"Well you'd best not be late." Aziraphale picked up Adam's cup and his own and brought them to the cupboard, miracling them clean on the way. "Is he picking you up?"

"Um, no, actually." Adam glanced over at Crowley, eyes opened wide and his mouth in a pout.

The demon rolled his eyes before standing up. "Alright kid, get in the car."

"Thanks!" Adam raced out of the shop. "I can't wait until I can drive. But dad won't even let me have a cell phone yet!"

"Really," Aziraphale muttered, "Another antichrist, goodness gracious."

Crowley cackled as he sauntered out the door. "Third time's the charm, isn't it?"

"Oh, dear."


End file.
